sports

Several years ago, I was mentoring a woman who was leaving her corporate job and launching an executive coaching practice.

She was scared stiff.

It was rather interesting to me that she was so risk-averse – most people who start professional service businesses have to be at least a little bit comfortable with Not Knowing – and the story she told herself (and me) was:

“This might not work. Actually, it’s a huge longshot. Most new businesses fail and I will probably be one of them. Oh, man. I am leaving a secure, steady paying job for a job that is destined to fail. I cannot believe I am doing this. What am I thinking?”

Need I mention that her stress level was sky high?

And because of the way she is wired, she needed to talk it out with people in order to come to terms with this big change.

Which can be OK.

And can also be the absolutely worse possible thing anyone can do.

Here’s what she told her young daughters:

“Mommy is starting her own business. Which means she’s going to be leaving her job and will be working from home. It also means that we’re going to need to start really saving money. You’re going to have to give some things up. So (their longtime babysitter) is going to stop coming, and (their favorite hobby) is too expensive so we’ll have to stop that. You both will need to do more chores around the house, and you’re each going to have one night a week where you’ll cook supper.”

What eight year old wouldn’t burst out into tears after hearing that?

***

Recently, I overheard a sports coach talking with his team. They were a pretty good team facing a really good team. A really, really good nationally-ranked team. He said:

“We can beat these guys! I want you to really focus and make it count! You can do this! You can beat them!”

And every player on the team thought:

“There is no way in hell we can beat this team. We lost before we suited up. I hope I don’t embarrass myself – how soon can we get this game over with?”

They lost.

***

How different would it have been for the mother starting her own business to say:

“I am so excited! I am starting my own business! I am really scared but at the same time, I’m really proud of myself. I’m going to need you guys to help me succeed – think you could do that? Let me teach you how to make spaghetti because it would be such a huge help if you could make it every Tuesday!”

What if the sports coach had said:

“Look, we have such an amazing opportunity tonight! We’re playing a nationally-ranked team and they didn’t get there by being total slackers. Tell you what – let’s not worry about the score in this game. Let’s just figure out how they do what they do. Let’s learn their secret sauce tonight. Then, let’s steal it so we can get to the point where we’re nationally-ranked, too. Who’s with me?”

I don’t know about you, but I’m saying yesyesyesyesyesyes.

***

I bet there’s a story you’re telling. And I’ll even bet you like telling it. I assume you’re pretty darn good at it – even have it memorized.

But.

Maybe there’s a different way to tell it so other people jump in with you to make the leap you need to make.

Maybe there’s a way to say what you need to say that inspires others to give you the hand you know you need.

I was watching a hockey game the other day when I overhead a little girl ask her mother, “What happens if nobody wins?” And with a shrug, the mother answered, “Somebody always wins, honey.” Which got me thinking.

A la Jerry Seinfeld, what’s the deal with winning? There’s always got to be a winner, whether in sports, politics — even merging into traffic. Why does winning hold so much power for human beings? Especially humans of the dude variety. Ever notice that interest in professional sports rose as the opportunities for men to go to war decreased? I’m just sayin’…

Winning is held in such esteem that a tie, where there is no clear victor, leads to “sudden death.” As in, the battlefield death of the vanquished. Would it be different if we called the tie-breaking overtime outcome “sudden victory”? Feels much less satisfying, no?

Earlier in the week I spoke with a man who is considering starting his own business in an industry he knows extremely well. We discussed the competitive landscape and he noted that the industry leader is known for cut-throat tactics and a lack of integrity. “I don’t want my company to be like that,” he said. “But, can I be successful if I’m not number one?”

Author and tech marketing guru Geoffrey Moore says you can, if you’re smart. He says there are three different kinds of players in a competitive market: Gorillas, Chimps and Monkeys.

Gorillas are the segment leaders, whose products become the industry standard. Think Coca-Cola. Chimps are the challengers — think Pepsi. And Monkeys are the guys who follow along in the market, aping the Gorillas and Chimps, often positioning themselves as unique or offering excellent customer service to get business. Think Cadbury-Schweppes.

In business as in sports, we think we have to be a Gorilla to be successful. But monkeys can make great businesses. Sure, Coke’s market cap is nearly $137 billion, but Schweppes? There are plenty of bubbles in ginger ale, friends — $23 BILLION worth of bubbles.

And you can’t tell me that ain’t a successful business.

“Winning’s not everything, it’s the only thing,” said legendary coach Vince Lombardi. Uh huh. Guess it depends on how you define winning. Because being Number Three, the $23 billion dollar Monkey, can be extremely satisfying. Considering the energy needed to maintain Gorilla status, being a Monkey — doing what you love and doing it well, sounds pretty appealing.

Pressuring yourself to always be the winner can lead to incredible stress. And, as the New England Patriots proved, nobody wins all the time. Some of the best learning I ever had, in fact, was working on a losing Presidential campaign. Sure, winning would have been great — but I learned how to handle defeat somewhat gracefully. I learned about what works, and what doesn’t, in campaigns. I learned about loyalty, and friendship. I learned just how far I can be pushed, physically, emotionally and mentally. I learned about what’s really important.

Which is worth the market capitalization of Coca-Cola to me.

The next time you find yourself driving yourself (or your kids, or your work group, or your spouse) to be the Gorilla, ask yourself this: Is winning worth being completely stressed out? What’s to be learned from doing my absolute best, even if I’m not the Gorilla? Can I be content with being a very successful, centered, happy Monkey?

I say: pass the bananas, baby, ‘cuz the world needs more happy monkeys.